


copacetic

by bninenines



Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Autism Spectrum, Autistic Meltdown, Hurt Neville Parker, Men Crying, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Neurodiversity, Neurotypical Passing Character, Neville has autism, Neville is a soft bean, Spoilers, slight AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-19 04:26:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22605100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bninenines/pseuds/bninenines
Summary: Neville was finding it hard to adjust to being posted in Saint Marie. He wasn't very good at being away from home. Spending a few hours on Caribbean island did not sound good for his anxiety, so he he really began to panic upon finding that he'd have to stay there a lot longer.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	1. welcome to paradise

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! It's grace here with another death in paradise fic! Having watched the new detective Neville, it really gave me some inspiration for a fic. He's rather adorable and I do see a little bit of Richard in him. Anyway I hope you enjoy! This is also my first multi chap fic!

Neville wrung his hands together in the comfort of the hotel suite. It was far better here than in that little shed; more hygienic, away from the mosquitoes and the sand that seemed to get everywhere. He’d bought some clothes and he’d had them washed. The lady at reception, Emma, had allowed him to, even though it wasn’t allowed. It was slightly weird, Neville had thought to himself, as he annoyed most hotel staff, so why was she being so nice to him? Maybe she had something to hide?

He was finding this too hard. Not to mention the weird thing on his ankle that he had no idea what it could be. He really wasn’t good at away from home. His mother would know. He missed home already. He was beginning to panic, what would happen if his inhaler ran out? Would they have the right medication? Would there be the right medication if he got sick, and that could be possible, with his hypersensitivity to the sun and his anxiety.

He didn't feel like he got on with anyone at the moment. He’d definitely annoyed Officer Hooper, by calling him early in the morning. He hadn't really meant to, plus he did say to call him if he needed anything. He’d annoyed the Commissioner by moving to the hotel. Neville was to be moved back to the shed (how had the policemen before lived in it?). He felt as if Madeleine was taking pity on him, though he hadn’t really annoyed her (yet, the voice in his head reminded him). The only person he seemed to get on with was Ruby. She was nice. He hadn't annoyed her yet either. It wouldn't be long before they were all sick of him, everyone back at home was. He was leaving after solving the case, luckily.

He’d found the killer. Killers, actually, and one of them was in fact Emma. He’d felt a bit uneasy, explaining in front of everyone how he came to find out the killers, or he genuinely felt uneasy, he wasn’t really sure. He began to feel light headed and the next thing he knew he was at the hospital. Everything had been a bit of blur and the next thing he knew, he was being wheeled back to the shed/shack. It was deep vein thrombosis, and he was lucky it was only that. However, it meant that he was unable to fly for a few weeks so he was stuck on the island of Saint Marie, great. He was stuck in a place where he felt as if he didn’t belong. He was away from home, he wasn't good at being away from home. There weren't even any chips here. He’d been looking forward to having some chips back at home, in Manchester. It was rather unfortunate, but Neville was stuck in a mosquito ridden shack for the rest of his stay. The shack also happened to be inhabited by a lizard too.

He’d sat in bed that night, the sound of the mosquitoes ringing in his ears. He could hear the waves, but they weren't exactly calming. He felt as if they were taunting him, reminding him that he was drowning. And really he was, he was drowning in his thoughts and suddenly his chest tightened, his head was pounding and he felt as if he was going to be sick. The noises were merging together now and it hurt. He wasn't able to see clearly now, everything seemed a little grey. He felt crawling on his skin and he swatted violently. He could feel the clothes touch against his skin and it felt horrible, horrible, horrible. He was shaking, and there was a horrible taste in his mouth. He began to cry, violent sobs wracking his body as he curled up as tightly as he could. He hated this. He wanted to get out of here. He wanted to go home. But he couldn’t, because life seemed to hate him and want to suffer on this island. He wrung his hands over and over again as he sobbed.

He cried himself to exhaustion. He sat there, fatigue longing to take over. His head still hurt slightly though. He felt a bit guilty. He hadn’t had a meltdown in years. He should’ve been able to notice that he was having one. He felt stupid. He hugged one of the pillows close to his chest. Eventually he let sleep take over him. Just as he drifted off to sleep, something the Commissioner said drifted into his head.

“Welcome to Paradise.”

It sure didn't feel like paradise, but Neville would just have to cope with it. He’d recover and be off home in no time. Five weeks. 35 days. 840 hours. 50,400 minutes. So yeah, no time at all.


	2. stuck in paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, it's me, back with another chapter. I enjoyed writing this one, though Neville's background is Au. Hope you enjoy reading it!

Neville was still stuck in Saint Marie. He realised this when he woke up from what he thought was a terrible nightmare, but in fact turned out to be a terrible reality. He felt drained from his meltdown the night before so he lay in bed for a while, listening to the waves which definitely sounded a lot more calming now. Eventually, he pulled himself out of bed and he made his way towards the kitchen. Once there, he went about making himself a cup of tea, just the way he liked it: teabag in the cup, hot water in, leave for a minute, teabag out, milk in, sugar (one teaspoon) in, and stir.

He sipped at his tea, sitting on a chair on the verandah. It was the closest he planned on being near the sea. He wasn’t planning to go on the sand, thank you very much. He didn't really plan on going into the ocean either, as nice as it looked. There was the potential risk of cercarial dermatitis, being stung by a jellyfish, drowning, Neville could name plenty of things. He was happy sitting on the verandah. With his cup of tea.

He’d been putting up a mosquito net when the Commissioner had randomly arrived with Madeleine. The Commissioner wasn’t too happy with Neville putting up the mosquito nets, but he needed to have them up, he was sensitive to mosquito bites.

A survival instructor had died. He’d bled out, which, to Neville, seemed kind of strange. Surely, he would’ve known how to save himself. He and Madeleine interviewed the suspects. One of them, Malcom, had gone to the survival camp to ‘toughen up’ as he’d always been pushed around. Neville understood where he was coming from. As a kid, he’d been pushed around a bit too, by bullies in his year. More like ostracised, he thought bitterly. He pushed the thoughts away, for now.

They get back to Saint Marie a short while later. He and Madeleine watch the suspects get into the taxis which were to take them to a hotel. They spot the Commissioner, who’s wearing a sailors hat. Neville wishes him good luck for taking his new boat out for a spin. Madeline and the Commissioner give him a weird look. He explains that the Commissioner looks jaunty, that the keys are brand new, there’s a float on them, and he had caught the Commissioner looking lovingly at a boat named Hortense. The Commissioner tells him that he’s not impressed by party tricks. He and Madeleine walk away awkwardly, and he tells her that the Commissioner is warming to him. It’s more or less a lie, but it makes her smile nonetheless.

Neville was in the market sometime later, buying some lemon candles to ward off the mosquitoes when he saw Dave, one of the suspects, buy keys to a boat. Was he trying to escape? He sadly had to ditch the candles and went off in pursuit. He luckily bumped into the Commissioner, he practically begged him to follow him. Weirdly, Dan went back to the island. Was he trying to hide the weapon? What was he coming back for? They managed to get him anyway. However, when they got back to the boats, the sky was black and stormy. It didn’t look like they’d be able to leave. Lightning flashed.

When he found out he’d be stuck on the island, Neville had naturally panicked. He was stuck where he was even more exposed to the mosquitoes and his routine that he’d set up was out of the window. He desperately tried to call JP, to send some help, but no boats were allowed to sail. The Commissioner hadn’t taken to it kindly. Neville didn’t want to be stuck on this island. He didn’t want to be in Saint Marie. He wanted to go home. The Commissioner didn’t understand. No one understood. He was getting frustrated. He could hear ringing. He wanted to run. But he couldn’t.

It was bucketing down with rain. In all honesty, bucketing seemed too light a word. He’d noticed that the shelter was leaking slightly, where the Commissioner was sat, while he was talking about mosquitos. he took a jacket that he kept safe in his bag and used it to cover up the hole. His mother had always told him to take a cagoule with him. It was lucky he did. You never knew when you were going to need one. He reached into his bag and pulled out a bag of lemon bonbons he’d managed to buy. He offered them to the Commissioner and surprisingly, he took one. Neville apologised for his outburst, though he felt like he had to, rather than needing to. He used the word discombobulated. He felt more than discombobulated though. The Commissioner notes that he seems to be discombobulated a lot of the time, which was kinda fair, in a way. He doesn’t choose to be like it. He tries his best to get on with it. He wants his life to function as normally as possible. He didn't want to have autism. He wanted to be neurotypical. Normal. He wasn’t good at much in life, but he could solve puzzles, murders. The Commissioner mused that maybe he wasn’t suited to be a good detective in the Caribbean, because of his idiosyncrasies. Neville didn’t know what to say. He felt a little disheartened, the Commissioner didn’t like him. He’d tried so hard, but had ultimately failed, like he always did. He was a failure. He mutters a polite “goodnight” to the Commissioner before turning around and going to sleep.

The next morning had not started out great. He’d woken up absolutely plastered in mosquito bites. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it was going to be, so that was a positive. The atmosphere in the little camp was rather awkward, but the Commissioner had brought coconuts that he had found by the beach. He moved over to Dave, and offered him the coconut. Dave had frozen and Nevile asked if he was okay. It turned out that Dave was worried that his girlfriend had killed him, and he was getting rid of the evidence.

They made their way back to where they had tied the boats the day before, but found nothing there. The Commissioner looked positively fuming. Inside, Neville was petrified. He had no idea how the Commissioner would react. The Commissioner had yelled angrily and Neville could not stop himself from flinching. The Commissioner just made his way back into the jungle and to the the camp. Dave glanced at Neville before following the Commissioner. He joined them sometime after. He made his way to the Commissioner before he changed his mind. His eyes landed on the cagoule that was still in the shelter. He went to remove it and the rainwater poured all over him. He saw the Commissioner sigh in disappointment. But he thought he’d solved the murder. He think he knew who did it.

He was right. It was Malcom. Though Will himself had chosen to die. He could’ve saved himself, but he had changed the crime scene to make it look like he’d been murdered by an intruder. He didn’t want to ruin Malcom’s life even more.

He finds out that JP is expecting a child. He expresses his congratulations. JP’s phone rings and he goes off to answer it. The commissioner arrives and says that the coastguard has found his boat. But it's off the coast of Montserrat. If there’s any damage, Neville would have to pay. JP returns and he looks as if he’s seen a ghost. Twins, he tells them, he’s having twins. Everyone chuckles and they toast to JP and Rosey not getting any sleep ever again.

He goes back to the shack, has a run in with the blasted lizard, and flops onto the bed tiredly. He’s had enough of this place. He wants to go back home. Where everything is normal. Or as normal as it can be. The Commissioner still didn’t like him. He probably never would, but Neville was trying not to care. He’d be gone soon and he wouldn’t have to worry about being in the Caribbean again. But what then? He’d be back home with coworkers that found him annoying, that usually refused to work with him. At least they accepted him. His mind flashed back to Malcom, who’s life had been made hell by Will in their younger years. Neville knew what it was like.

Neville had spent the whole of his education pretty much friendless. It wasn’t really until secondary school where things got worse. He’d be pushed about, mocked, anything. He never spoke up about it. He’d been far too afraid to. They’d only get into trouble and then hurt him more. He learnt that the hard way, after all, “no one likes a snitch,” he heard his bully say before he felt pain in his chest, after he’d been kicked in the ribs.

Soon it was late, so Neville went through his nighttime routine before going to bed, his mind filled with flashbacks from his childhood as he slept.


	3. normality in paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am with another chapter! It's slightly au but I hope you enjoy it!

Life was getting somewhat easier. He’d been counting down the days until he could go home. But he was sick and tired of the lizard. He was sure that was why his scalp was itching. He ‘d almost managed to get rid of him, catching him and getting ready to release him into the wild. He could never kill Harry. He wouldn’t. Yet when Harry had looked up at him, Neville couldn’t do it. He went to take Harry back to the shack when he slipped and dropped the box. Harry had disappeared.

Madeleine had told him it was his fault, and in a way, it was. He hadn’t actually meant to lose Harry at that point. He had looked for Harry as well. What made things worse was that he was still trying to find out why the washing machine at a crime scene had been put on. No one said they had put it on. He was pretty sure that one of them had suggested that it may have been an intruder who murdered the woman, but Neville was struggling to see why an intruder would stab someone, then decide to put someone else’s washing on. It didn't make sense. 

He’d found the killer and then everyone joined him in looking for Harry. They had managed to find him, which Neville was thankful for, but he’d apparently found himself a girlfriend/mate? One lizard was enough, thank you very much. As he tried to usher Harry back into the box, Ruby had named the other lizard Shaniqua. It looked like he had two lizards now. 

He arrived back at the shack, with Harry and Shaniqua and he let them out of the box. He watched them scurry away and he sighed softly. He’d always wanted a pet as a kid, but his father was strictly against it. He was strictly against him doing anything, if Neville was being honest. 

He hadn’t really spoken to his father since he joined the police. His father had been cold, harsh, and unforgiving. He remembered nights where he had cried himself to sleep, but he never cried loudly, for his father would’ve gone insane. He tried not to remember too much about his father. 

The only person he regularly spoke to was his mother, and he always made sure to call her when his dad wasn’t home. His mother had been fantastic in bringing him up. She never yelled at him, or grabbed him so hard that it left a mark. She made him feel loved and accepted when he didn’t feel like he was. 

That’s why he had flinched a week or so ago now. It was instinct. He never knew when his dad was going to lash out. He just had to take it. Maybe that’s why he tolerated the mean comments back at home. He just dealt with being excluded from things. Was being away from home the best thing for him? Neville wasn’t sure. But deep down, he was going to miss the people here: JP, a incredibly bright and focused officer who was planning on taking the sergeant’s exam soon; Ruby, a beaming ball of energy who always managed to put a smile on someone’s face; and Madeleine, who was accepting and tolerant of him, not matter what he did. She was patient, kind. She never raised her voice at him or told him to stop being irritating. 

He mulled over his thoughts as he sat in bed that night. Did he truly want to leave. He had around one week left on this island. He didn’t want to regret his time here. That’s why he found himself visiting the Station more frequently. He wanted to get the most out of it. He couldn’t stand being in the shack alone. He needed to keep moving. 

Maybe St Marie wasn’t so bad after all.


End file.
